


what we are

by venomedveins



Series: of magic & monsters extra content [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Family Dynamics, M/M, Past Violence, talks of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: a missing snippet of life with agron's and nasir's children





	what we are

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. Well, here we are again. I'm not even sure how big this add on is going to be, but there are a few deleted scenes and extras that I wanted to share. Thank you so much for the support and I hope that this little extra content serves to help answer some lingering questions. If not, ask me and I'll be happy to write anything to explain some things.

Snow collects heavy on the window pane, piled thick with slush and ice. Galena has been under the storm for hours, the white blurring out the view from inside the castle, the city lost below. Inside the safety of the king's suite, the royal family relaxes against the chill, tucked away from the rest of the world. With the weather the way that it is, Agron had no choice but to cancel court and leave the family blissfully undisturbed.

Kieran and Nico are sitting beside one another on a small couch, both of them with their nose in books. Every few moments Nico will lean over and point to a word. He is still new enough to the family and to this land that his Alptraum is not fluent and Kieran has to gently sound the word out and explain it in Pythonissan. They've left a cushion between them, leaning on opposite arms - far enough to be appropriate. 

Agron can see that Nico has pulled his feet up though, tucking his toes just under the edge of Kieran's fur blanket. When the slighter boy shivers, the prince is quick to spread the fur wider, ducking behind the thick tome to hide his blush. Agron isn't blind enough not to see what this is becoming, too many shared glances and lingering fingers over shoulders - even at only 10 and 7. Nasir and Pietros hide their theories behind their hands but Kieran wears his heart on his cheek and Nico has started shedding sparks every time Kieran walks in the room.

On the far left, Nasir is curled on his side on the bench seat. The bay window is a blur of ice behind him, offering just enough light to illuminate the wolf charm nestled at his throat. Nadia and Laila have pulled themselves up in the curve of his body, nuzzling against his chest, their dark hair tangling with Nasir's over the large pillow. They were telling Nasir a story, voices soft as the twins alternate sentences, but it seems the quiet of the room has gotten to them, tucked close and nearly asleep. 

Agron is sprawled out on the rug by the fire, long legs wrapped in leather and armor blissfully absent, Ravi leaning against his hip. He's using the low table to spread a few pieces of paper over, drawing on them with soft crayons. Ravi is still small enough though that he keeps having to shift up on his knees, stretching his arms out. He's been singing to himself, some drinking song half in Alptraum and half in Pythonissan. It's the type of song that he's not sure of all the words, muttering over what sounds like wolf growls when he can't remember the exact phrases. Agron has no idea where he learned it from, but he's betting on Duro.

"What are you drawing, baby?" Agron asks, reaching to stroke his fingers through Ravi's curls. He's taken to wearing a dozen or so necklaces, draping them down his small chest, and a small gold circlet in his hair.

"Baba and Daddy." Ravi points a smudgy finger to the page. They’re not half bad, thick stick figures with Nasir’s having long, dark hair and Agron’s standing much taller than him. "And Malik and Sepp and Kieran and Nadia and Laila and Uncle Pietros."

Ravi is still young enough that his words are high and sweet and half slurred, still learning the mechanics of language. Every other word is cut in half, pronouncing “Daddy” as “Da Dee.” He has swearing in Alptraum down perfectly though, having learned it from either Duro, Agron, or Malik - though it's probably all three. 

"Where is Uncle Auctus and Uncle Barca?" Agron leans his head up, tries to peek at the papers. "And Uncle Duro?"

"I'm not done yet." Ravi squints sharply over his shoulder, little face pulled down into a scowl. It's a perfect mirror of Nasir’s own and Agron feels a warm flicker of affection melt through his chest. "No looking, Daddy!"

"Alright. Alright." Agron raises his hands in mock surrender, sprawling back down.

He catches Nasir's eye from across the room, grinning when Nasir does, a curl of light ghosting over the bridge of his nose. It has taken them so long to be here - to be happy and content - a family whole and protected. Even at 32, Nasir is as beautiful as he's ever been, dark eyes and power that simmers just below the surface. Agron cannot imagine a world where Nasir isn't his light. They deserve this, after everything, and Agron will not let it slip away.

Of course, this peace and softness cannot last. A commotion down the hall breaks the solace of the room, yelling and quick footsteps pounding up the hall. Agron is the first on his feet, gently but quickly scooping Ravi up and pressing him into the couch between Kieran and Nico. Nasir is moments after, the hilt of Agron's sword in his hand. It has been a very long time since they've needed to be this prepared, but old habits die hard as Nasir's gaze meets Agron's, his body moving before the girls. 

It's all for naught though as the doors suddenly bang open, Spartacus escorting the two eldest princes by their shoulders. At least six guards follow them, faces placid and unwavering, even when they bow in the presence of the kings. 

Sepp's eyebrow is bleeding, a dark bruise staining his left cheek and jaw. Malik is worse off, mouth still dripping blood, teeth a smear of red. His tunic has been torn too, half of it hanging now from just one shoulder. Both of his knuckles are covered too, growling deep in his chest as Spartacus stops them, expression dark. 

"Oh gods!" Nasir rushes forward, magic already crackling around him as if he means to heal both boys at once. He's nearly to Malik when Spartacus shakes his head.

"Nasir, maybe you should wait." Spartacus begins, drawing both princes before him. Sepp has the humility to at least stare at the ground, even if the blood on his face drips onto his chest. Malik is ever defiant though, head held high. "Tell him what happened."

"I'm not fucking sorry. I'm not." Malik snarls in Alptraum, not daring to yank away from Spartacus but glaring at him all the same. "He fucking deserved it and worse!"

"Malik, watch your tongue." Agron raises a brow, setting his sword against the wall. Behind him, Nico and Ravi are clutching at each other, the twins staring with matching wide eyes. Only Kieran seems to be calm, gently placing a piece of paper into his book as a marker. 

"I should not be punished for that fucking ass!" Malik whips his head up, gaze darting behind his parents to Ravi and then back, "You shouldn't have pulled me off him."

"Violence is not always the path we must take, majesty." Spartacus sighs, tugging Malik closer to him as a way to keep him calm. "We have to tread carefully when dealing with other diplomats."

"You must conduct yourself like the prince you are." Agron motions Sepp towards him, taking the rag from Nasir. He presses it against Sepp's brow, guiding his son's head back to try and stop the bleeding. It’s not a deep gash, but the type that rest cruelly on the bone and won’t stop bleeding. "You are the oldest. We expect you to act like it. We’ve been over this so many times, Malik. I am very-"

"You weren't there! He was speaking to me like he fucking can say what he wants." Malik barks, his eyes wide and gleaming. He is pushing Agron’s patience. "I'm a crowned prince! The heir apparent. I know my title and I am going to defend my family against anyone. Especially some snot nosed asshole from Pyruim."

"I will not tell you again to watch your tongue." Agron's eyes snap to Malik's, tone shifting. He is very much the father, voice deeper and scowling. 

"They really were being assholes, Dad." Sepp mumbles, letting Agron wipe at his face, "Malik tried to keep calm but Gerolion wouldn't stop."

"Sergio's son Gerolion and his cousin Fistas were training with us today." Spartacus cuts in, releasing Malik's arm only to cross his own. "I did not overhear the scuffle, but it seems Malik threw the first punch."

"He deserved it! If you had heard what he said, the way he was carrying on." Malik whines, turning away from Spartacus' cloudy expression to Agron's. "What he called Baba!"

"Malik, habibi," Nasir glances up at Agron, anguished at the desperate way Malik's voice is cracking, and then back. "It's okay. Whatever happened it was not worth the damage you caused your face."

"What did he say?" Agron asks bluntly, releasing Sepp when the teen takes the towel from him. 

At the question, Malik's eyes dart quickly to Nasir and he cringes, curling his fingers into fists. It's been a habit since he was young, trying to ground himself against what he knows is inevitable, contain his fury. He's unable to meet Nasir's gaze, shifting away from the obvious curiosity there. It seems to pain him, a warbling sound coming from his chest. It's not quiet a whine, but it makes Nasir want to pull him towards him, coddle him against his chest. Malik is only thirteen and yet he's already taller than Nasir, shoulders broader too, and yet Nasir cannot see him as anything but his baby. 

"Well? You obviously thought it warranted attacking the boy. What did he say?" Agron's tone does not give any room for argument and Malik visibly shudders, knowing he's going to have to confess. 

"He-" Malik takes a slow breath, keeping in Alptraum in hopes the others won't understand him. He barely manages to look up at Agron, mouth twisted in disdain. "He called Baba a witch and a whore."

Malik pauses, flinching hard at the way Nasir bristles, still close enough to touch Malik if he only stretched out his hand. Agron does not move, kingly in the cool, passive expression on his face.

"And," Malik pulls in a slow breath, remembering his training. Uncle Spartacus always said to face any battle with head held high and calm heart. This is no different. "And said that you bought him from his father to fill your bed."

Agron and Nasir instantly turn and look at each other, seeming to communicate through their eyes. The room goes silent, the wet sound of snow hitting the window filling the space. The children have grown up watching this, know their shared magic allows them to talk in their mind. Still, the longer it stretches, the wider Malik's eyes seem to get, jaw dropping even as he oozes another droplet of blood onto his chest. 

"Daddy." From the couch, Ravi's bare feet hit the floor, brow furrowed as a ripple of green magic curls around his arm. "What's a whore?"

"It's fucking true, isn't it?" Malik's eyes shatter into light, fangs extending as the words explode from his throat. He doesn't try to fight his shift, fury forcing his body to twist from it. "You fucking bought him?"

"Malik, stop. It's not what you think," Nasir turns towards him, hands reaching out. Malik allows it, would never shove Nasir away from him, but he glares over his father's head at Agron.

Ever since Malik has hit puberty, the two of them have collided. Malik loves Agron, adores him, but he challenges everything he does. Agron, in tandem, refuses to relent with Malik - expecting him to act to his title and be the responsible heir. Nasir seems to be caught between the two, attempting to soothe the barbs and screaming matches. 

"How could you do this?" Malik spits, shoulders rolled forward, his wrist caught in Spartacus' grasp again. Nasir has a hand firmly pressed to his chest, turning his body towards him and attempting to block Malik from Agron.

"Habibi, listen to me, there is much more to this story than you know." Nasir mutters softly in Pythonissan. He strokes his fingers over Malik's cheek, turning his face towards him. "Things in life are not black or white. Sometimes, they are complex and convoluted."

"Complicated? It's not complicated." Malik's eyes gleam over the top of Nasir's head, glaring at Agron. "You stand there and pretend you're a fair king, a just king. We have to be stern but kind, Malik. Value every man as his own. And yet your own consort is a slave! Purchased to fill your bed!"

"Malik!" Nasir turns sharply, releasing his hold on his eldest. "I don't care how angry you are. You don't speak to your father that way."

"How could you do this?" Malik's voice breaks, angry tears flooding his eyes. It only makes him more angry, teeth gnashing.

"Why is everyone yelling? Daddy?" Stepping around the low table, Ravi presses his face against Agron's thigh, clinging to him. "I don't understand." 

"Does this mean we are purchased as well?" Kieran leans forward, hands on his knees. Nico is wide eyed beside him, a nervous vine crawling up their shared blanket. "We are not really your-"

"Stop, no." Agron stoops, lifting Ravi onto his hip. The little boy clings to his father, nuzzling against his chest. Agron is quick to pet a hand into his hair, turning to look fully at the rest of the room. He does not miss the way Nico’s eyes fall to the carpet, face flushed."Of course you are our children, our nephew, part of our family. We love you, each and every one of you."

"But-" Malik growls, hushed when Nasir wraps his arms around him, tugging them towards the low couch. 

"Come. Let me tell you a story."

Malik doesn't want to move, doesn't want to be soothed, wants to rage and rage and rage until there is nothing left. But Nasir's hands are soft on his shoulders, caressing up his neck to press a towel to his mouth as Malik sinks into the plush cotton. Malik's heart hurts but he knows he will never push Nasir away, can't stand the thought of hurting his baba. 

Agron sits on Nasir's other side, holding Ravi between them as the twins come to sit at against the arm, squeezing in until they can hook their small legs over his lap. Sepp slounces down on the rug by Malik's legs, flops against the side of the couch with a rough grunt. Last to scoot over is Kieran, Nico following just behind. They settle at Agron's feet, leaning against one another. Spartacus is left to rest against the mantle, feeling out of place but somehow necessary incase Malik loses control again. 

"A long, long time ago," Nasir begins, brushing his fingers against Malik's curls, "a group of elders living way up in the mountains saw a vision of a great warrior being born. He was to be the king of all kings and was to bring peace to the land."

Agron's and Nasir's eyes meet briefly, a small smile shared between them. It is a story that has been told for a while now, whispered ever since that final battle nearly thirteen years ago. There are details though that neither of them have felt appropriate to divulge, especially how they ended up waring with a vampire clan. 

"But before he was born, two people had to meet and fall in love to create him. And they were very different." Agron adds, surprised when the twins nuzzle closer, eyes getting wide and eager. "One was from a very big group of warriors that turned into animals."

"Like us!" Nadia grins, curling her small fingers into claws. 

"Exactly like us." Agron nods, wrinkling his nose at her. 

"And the other group were powerful magicians who traveled around and helped people." Nasir is wise enough to leave out the more intimate details of his previous craft. "Until one day the magicians wondered into the wolf's land."

"The king then was a very bad man." Agron moves his gaze over his children, weaving the story slowly. "He was a terrible giant who ruled with anger and pain, and did not care for the kindness all kings should show. He wanted a very powerful magician for his own, but he couldn't buy one for himself because he was already married."

"So instead," Nasir interjects, sees the way Malik's jaw clicks. "He bought one for his son and hoped that he could steal him away."

"But the son wouldn't let him. He fought to protect his new husband and the two of them fell very much in love." Agron stretches his arm along the back of the couch, touches Nasir's hair. "And they had to fight lots but they lived happily ever after."

The room falls into silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound breaking it except for the soft repetition of breath. To the younger kids, the story is a fairytale. They are too young to understand the repercussions of what Agron and Nasir have told. To the older though, it hits hard. They had always known that their parents were strong, were dedicated to one another, but the horror of their coming together throws a dark shadow over all of it. 

"Why didn't you ever leave?" Kieran is brave enough to ask, staring intently where the golden sun turns to stars on the carpeted floor. Against his side, Nico fiddles with the edge of Kieran’s cloak. He may not have been born into this family, but he still has been adopted into it.

Nasir draws a slow breath, considers his answer before ghosting his fingers through Kieran's hair. It is a valid question, and one that Nasir has known the answer to for a very long time. 

"I didn't want to." 

Against his side, Malik jerks his head up, whole body tense as if he doesn't believe the words. Nasir smiles at him though, helpless and honest. 

"I fell in love. I got pregnant. My place became here. My family is here."

Agron and Nasir look at one another again, lace fingers over Nasir's shoulder. A flicker of gold echos over Nasir's knuckles, down onto Agron's wrist, warmth and dedication. It doesn't need words, thirteen years of marriage and they still burn hot for one another as if it is the first day. 

"We are a family. Before royalty, before our duty." Agron speaks soft, nuzzles against Naisr's temple before pulling Ravi up and against his chest. The twins claim his other side, tugging on his arm. "People are going to say bad things sometimes about us. What's important is to remember your baba and I love you very much."

"I love you too Daddy." Ravi grins, pressing a kiss to the rough stubble on Agron's cheek. "And Baba!" He waves his fingers at Nasir, a crown of dandelions sprouting along Nasir's hair. 

"I love you too, baby." Nasir doesn't have to raise his fingers to give Ravi his own crown, a spiral of clover falling over his temples.

"Let's not fight anymore. Baba, I want you to show us how to dance again." Laila slides off the couch, is the perfect lady as she does a quick spin, her skirts flaring out. "The quick one for the Wolf Moon please."

"Would you like to go practice, Nadia?" Nasir grins, following the twins off the couch. 

"Me too! Me too!" Ravi is already scrambling to get off Agron, tugging on Nico's arm, "And Nico!"

"Alright, alright. Go get your shoes on and we'll go practice in one of the gallery rooms downstairs." Nasir leans into Agron's side, tucks his feet up and under Agron's thigh, watching the children scatter. 

Kieran goes to read his book in the library and Sepp makes some comment about going to lay down, his eye starting to bruise. Nasir offers to heal it but Sepp only shrugs, waving his hand. He's more keen to wear bruises as marks of pride than let things be simply over with. 

Only Malik stays silent, getting off the couch and pressing a quick, parting kiss to Nasir's cheek, waving off his father's question. He doesn't even raise his head, instead hunching his shoulders and leaving the suite with a quiet click of the door. 

"The other boy was badly injured. A broken nose and a knocked tooth." Spartacus eyes the royal pair, rubbing at his long beard. It's started to streak gray in the middle. 

"Did he have good form?" Agron asks, jolting when Nasir's elbow connect with his ribs. 

"I never wanted him to find out that way. There was never a good time." Nasir rubs his hands over his face, sighing miserably. Agron tightens his hold on him, leaning over to kiss Nasir's temple, shaking him a little.

"Stop blaming yourself." 

"How can I not?" Nasir leans his head back, rolls his eyes over to look at his husband. 

"There is always gossip at court. One of them would have heard something." Agron sooths, half tempted to pull Nasir into his lap by the way his husband shudders. "It's a new rumor each weak. Unavoidable."

"Agron is right." Spartacus frowns, shaking his head. "It is a miracle Malik has gone so long without hearing it."

"It should have come from us. It's our story." Nasir mutters, frustrated and wanting. There are so many things that could have been avoided, and Nasir knows it, if they had just told him. 

"Nasir, you know the temperament of this court. You know the games these fucking people play." Spartacus smiles pitying. "No matter who he hears it from, it will be a blow. Malik barely understands who he is, let alone what had to happen to protect him, what it takes every day to keep him safe."

"I'll go talk to him, okay?" Agron brushes a quick thumb over Nasir's chin. "We'll figure it out."

"Agron-" Nasir turns to him, a shadow ghosting over in his expression, a shade lost as the door bangs open again, Ravi tumbling out with Nico, the twins right behind. 

"Baba! Come on, slow poke!" Ravi shrieks, dashing across the floor and towards the front door. The guard opens it slow, hiding a grin as he bows at the royal children. 

"I'll be back." 

Nasir presses a slow kiss to Agron's mouth, hears Nadia's and Laila's echoing sounds of disgust. Agron grins into the kiss, makes sure to fist Nasir's hair to make his eyes go hazy, pulling back with a loud smack. 

"Baba!" Ravi calls from the hall, uninterested in being patient. 

"Be gentle with him." Nasir mumbles, backing away from Agron towards the door. 

"He's my baby too." Agron sighs, rolling his eyes at Spartacus who shrugs. 

\- - - 

Agron finds Malik standing in one of the galleries downstairs, head tipped back and staring at a large portrait. It was commissioned early on, Gerulf standing in the center with Agron and Duro on either side. Before Gerulf, his large hand on his bare shoulder, Nasir stares out poised and elegant. He's dressed the way he was at the wedding, down to the gold ring around his waist. Nineteen and more brave than most men feel in their whole lives. It was supposed to be a wedding anniversary gift before it all came to a violent end. 

To Malik's left is the current royal family portrait, all six kids circling around Agron and Nasir, true smiles stretched over their faces. It is the one that should be in the center - a beacon from the past. 

"Is this him?" Malik doesn't have to turn to know Agron is there, in tune due to wolf magic. 

"Yes." 

Agron isn't going to lie to him, pausing next to Malik gaze up at his father. He had wanted to get rid of the thing a long time ago, only kept from it by Duro's request. They didn't paint the bruises on Nasir's skin, the rampant magic that told him to run, to escape when Gerulf was still alive. 

"Your father." Malik has his arms crossed over his chest. "My grandfather."

"His name was Gerulf." Agron can see the snarling wolf on the coins of his own armor, his hand clutching Nasir's by his hip. 

"It is my fault." Malik takes a shuddering breath. He won't cry. Agron knows that. But it lingers right there, cracks his voice. "If he hadn't gotten pregnant with me."

"He was already pregnant in this portrait." Agron turns to look at Malik, watches the tremor go through his son. "Malik-"

"He could have gone. It's my fault. I know there is more to the story. You and Baba get so quiet sometimes, and Baba has nightmares. I hear him crying at night. I have since I was young." Malik turns towards Agron, angry and bitter, his cheeks red. "Why didn't you let him leave?"

"I did." Agron's brow furrows, shaking his head. "I told him to leave. I gave him the choice over and over again. Your baba was never a slave to me, was never my property. He wanted to stay."

"Why am I so important? What aren't you telling me?" Malik hiccups, rubbing his eyes. "What am I?"

"You're my son." 

Agron reaches out, pulling Malik into his arms. He hugs him tightly, fierce in his determination to protect Malik from something the teen has barely scratched the surface on. Agron has been holding him and shielding him from the day Malik was born, and he will not stop now, even with Malik's head comfortably tucking under his nose.

"One day," Agron murmurs into Malik's hair, "you will understand all of this. But all you need to know now, Malik, is that we love you and you are safe here with us. No one is ever going to hurt you. Your baba and I won't let it happen."

Malik nods mutely, his fingers digging into Agron's back. Malik tries to be so strong, so fucking strong. He knows he's a prince, knows he's supposed to carry on the family name, but he collapses against his father, lets Agron be strong, support him. 

"Promise me something?" Agron pulls back, presses a soft kiss to Malik's temple. "Do not carry this weight with you, okay? You cannot control what has happened before, only what is to come. Let your baba and I worry about running the kingdom and protecting you and your siblings."

"But I'm an heir apparent." Malik sniffles a little, embarrassed to be seen showing any emotion but stoic poise. 

"You can be an heir apparent and also a child too." Agron grins, ruffling Malik's hair when the teen swats at him. "Leave the big decisions and stress up to your baba and I, alright?"

"Yeah yeah." Malik moves out from under Agron's arm, beaming up at him. "You would have been really proud though, Dad. I knocked him on his ass with one punch!"

"Don't let your baba hear you say that!" Agron chides, swatting at the back of Malik's head. "But I'll race you down to the training sand if you want to show me."

"If you think you can beat me, old man." Malik laughs, taking off towards the hall. 

Agron growls as he follows, closing the door on Gerulf's grimacing face. The past can be left behind for another day.


End file.
